


Suiting Up

by starxreactor



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Identity Porn, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 18:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21396841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starxreactor/pseuds/starxreactor
Summary: Steve starts having trouble when he realizes he's attracted to the Iron Man armor, and by extension the man inside, so he goes to the only one who can fix this: Iron Man's boss, Tony Stark.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 249





	Suiting Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunatical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunatical/gifts).

> An incredibly belated birthday gift for my girl Karma.
> 
> This takes place in some weird nebulous time in early 616 canon. I just made up the team, I don't actually know when it takes place haha.
> 
> Sorry for the brushed over smut. I'm just not comfortable with writing it ndkdkks
> 
> Thanks to [AoifeLaufeyson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoifeLaufeyson/pseuds/AoifeLaufeyson) for beta-ing this!

It started suddenly, like most things in Steve’s life. 

One moment, it wasn’t a problem, and the next, it was. He could pinpoint the exact moment it started, because it hit him like a brick, and from then on he hadn’t been able to think of anything else—much to his despair.

It had been about a week ago, when Steve had decided to spar with Iron Man. 

Steve could proudly call Iron Man his best friend in this new world, and it didn’t matter to him that Iron Man wouldn’t reveal his identity. Steve respected that. Iron Man had all the right to privacy, and considering he saved the world on a regular basis, Steve had no ground to judge him for that. 

Either way, Steve may not know what Iron Man looks like besides those bright blue eyes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know  _ Iron Man _ . He knew him incredibly well—from his favorite food, to the fact that he couldn’t subsist without coffee, and to the fact that he always cried, without fail, every time he watched Titanic. Whenever that happened, Steve would always gaze at him with a light smile on his face, patting Iron Man’s back to try and comfort him even though he wasn’t certain Iron Man could feel him through the armor. He couldn’t help but try anyway, because Iron Man was his friend and Steve wanted him to be happy, and sometimes Iron Man would look up at him, eyes shiny, and Steve would wish that he could take off the faceplate, just a little bit, to kiss him, and—

Back to the sparring. Steve had been sweaty, panting, because Iron Man was putting up a good fight. They knew each other far too well, and that carried over into their fighting patterns. He had ducked a weak blast from Iron Man’s repulsor, and attempted to sweep his legs out from under him. Iron Man shot up into the air at that, dodging the sweep, and shot Steve again, who rolled away. 

Iron Man had seemed to expect that, though, and the moment Steve straightened up Iron Man had knocked him over and was straddling his lap. Steve grunted as he hit the ground hard, and then stared up at Iron Man, who was breathing heavily. “Got you,” Iron Man cried happily.

“Yeah, you did,” Steve said, shifting under the heavy weight. He had blinked down at where Iron Man’s legs were splayed across his groin, and it was that moment the wave crashed over him. He had never really noticed how… skin-tight the armor was. Normally full-body armor was shapeless, meant to protect the body, but Iron Man’s armor—it hugged all his curves and edges, displayed his strong muscles—not to mention the sheer amount of power contained within it. 

Within seconds, Steve was hard, and he immediately panicked, pushing Iron Man off of him and running out of the gym before Iron Man could see the tent in his clothes. He could hear Iron Man calling after him, confused, but Steve ignored him and ran off to his room, where he slammed the door shut. Steve sat down on his bed, disregarding his hard-on for now. What the  _ hell  _ was that? Why had he—Steve took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. It was probably the adrenaline from the fight, that’s all. He just needed to ignore it and it would go down, and he could apologize to Iron Man. It was just a one-time thing.

It was not a one-time thing. 

Nearly every single time Steve saw Iron Man, whether he was walking around the mansion or in the middle of a fight with a villain, all Steve could think about was what the armor looked like under him, or on top of him, or even next to him. Steve wasn’t picky. He wanted to peel the armor off of Iron Man, reveal the handsome man underneath, gaze at those brilliant blue eyes. He wanted to see just how much power the armor held, if it could hold him down as Iron Man fucked him. He wanted to kiss the man, hold him close, and whisper sweet nothings into his ears.

It had gotten to the point—two weeks since the problem had first arisen—that Steve nearly got killed on one of the missions, save for Iron Man swooping in at the last moment. He’d gotten distracted staring at the armor in action, flying around and shooting its beams at the mutant octopus. Steve had been grabbed by one of the flailing tentacles, and was nearly squeezed like a grape before Iron Man had flown in and saved him.

Steve’s ribs were bruised, and Iron Man and Donald Blake had spent the post-mission debrief fussing over him. That was when he decided he needed to fix this—somehow.

Going to Iron Man was not an option, not at all. Steve would literally never be able to face him again if Iron Man knew what was going on. Steve wasn’t particularly interested in telling the other members either, since it didn’t concern them. There was really only one person Steve could think of that would be fitting for this particular situation.

Tony Stark made the armor, after all, so he had the most experience with it besides Iron Man, and Steve didn’t think he would judge—too much, at least—considering his own exploits constantly plastered in the tabloids. Not that Steve looked at those.

With that in mind, Steve made his way down to Mr. Stark’s lab. Hopefully he would be there. Sometimes he would disappear for days on end with Iron Man, and god knows what they were up to during those times. 

Luck was on his side for once, because Mr. Stark was working on the armor, stripped down to a sweaty, greasy white tank-top and black slacks. He looked as though he had come straight from some sort of meeting or function. There were goggles on his face, but once he noticed Steve he pushed them up his forehead, his black locks splaying up in various directions. His eyes were bright as he flashed Steve a brilliant smile. They almost looked like Iron Man’s, clear blue and as light as the sky, but obviously that was a coincidence. Iron Man’s eyes were nicer, more blue, and—now was definitely not the time. “Cap! What can I do for you? New armor? Upgraded shield?”

“Uh, no thank you, Mr. Stark,” Steve said, blinking at how easily Mr. Stark would offer him new things. It was definitely not the first time and wouldn’t be the last, but he would never understand. Didn’t he have better things to work on, like his company? “It’s a more… personal problem.” That was one way to say it.

“Oh?” Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow curiously. Steve couldn’t blame him. They didn’t tend to interact much, since Mr. Stark was simply the benefactor and not an official Avenger. That didn’t mean Mr. Stark was not welcome, or unliked—it was just that their paths did not cross often. 

Steve took a deep breath, chest rising heavily. “Yes, it, uh, has to do with Iron Man… I… how do I say this?”   
  
“Did Iron Man do something?” Mr. Stark asked in alarm.

“No!” Steve shouted. “No, nothing like that. It’s my own fault. I—gosh, this is difficult.”   
  
“Spit it out, Cap,” Mr. Stark urged, eyes dark with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m attracted to the Iron Man armor,” Steve blurted out, and there was silence.

Mr. Stark was staring at him with wide eyes, lips parted in an ‘o’ shape. Steve felt a hot blush form on his cheeks. He had meant to say that with a little bit more tact. Hopefully Mr. Stark wouldn’t think too lowly of him. Steve knew homosexuality was more accepted in the modern times, and Mr. Stark had always been liberal, but maybe this was taking it a bit too far…? His attraction was to the armor, after all, though Steve had no doubt he would love and appreciate the man inside as well. 

“Oh,” Mr. Stark said eventually. “I wasn’t—expecting that. Nothing wrong with that,” he added hastily when Steve’s face fell. “Really. I’m not judging you. I’m just surprised. I, uh, thought you were straight.”   
  
“It’s a new-ish development,” Steve said. He was trying hard not to wring his hands, show any sort of anxiety on his part, but he bit his lip anyway. “I’ve done—a lot of research since waking up. I think I’m… bisexual?”   
  
“So am I,” Mr. Stark said quickly, then looked surprised at his own words, almost as surprised as Steve felt. He definitely hadn’t seen that mentioned on any of the tabloids. They tended to call Tony Stark a womanizer, a playboy. 

“Well, I didn’t mean to come out like that, but—yeah, I am. I—why did you come to me for this?” Mr. Stark’s words weren’t accusing, merely curious.

Steve sighed. “It’s gotten to a point of danger. I was so distracted by the armor during a recent mission that I nearly died. I’m worried that next time it will be someone else’s life. I need to find a way to deal with this.” 

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, seemingly thinking hard. Now that Steve was looking at him, he had never realized just pink Mr. Stark’s lips were. They looked soft. “Hm. Now, Cap, forgive me if this is too personal, but when was the last time you had sex?”

Steve’s mind blanked. “Uh—”   
  
“Never mind,” Mr. Stark said. “That was rude of me.”   
  
“No, it was just—” The blush returned with a vengeance, spreading hotly across his cheeks to his ears and down his neck, “—I’ve never—I’ve never had sex.”

The pause this time was a little less awkward, but it was still palpable. “Oh,” Mr. Stark said again. “I didn’t realize.” His tone was neutral, lacking any sort of judgment, but Steve still felt exposed. He had never really mentioned this fact to anyone. It just didn’t come up. 

“Well,” Mr. Stark continued slowly, “perhaps that’s the reason…? Maybe you’re just—sexually frustrated.” Steve had never heard him so unsure before. Usually the timbre of his voice was smooth, confident. 

“Maybe,” Steve said, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Surely it got boring just using one’s hand? He, admittedly, had seen a lot of porn since he had woken up from the ice, and so he knew quite a bit of the different things people did in sex, but he had never gotten the opportunity to try them out himself. “How would I—fix that? I mean, I know have sex, obviously, but with whom?”

“Uh… do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Mr. Stark asked. “That would be the obvious answer.”   
  
“No,” Steve said.

Mr. Stark grimaced and turned away from Steve for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, that’s fine. And, obviously, you’re not the type of person to go for a one-night stand or prostitute.” His voice was low, as though he was talking more to himself.

Steve had never really thought about it before, and he still wasn’t sure what to think. Would he ever try that? Maybe if he got desperate enough, but really, his situation wasn’t that bad yet.

Mr. Stark took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face and inadvertently smudging a bit of grease onto his cheek. He didn’t seem to notice, but Steve got the sudden urge to wipe it off. “What about—someone else? Someone you know, like—like me.”   
  
Steve blinked. He had to admit, he didn’t expect Mr. Stark to go that direction. But he was not… entirely opposed to the idea? He fully recognized Mr. Stark as an attractive man—of course he was, he was one of the most desirable men out there. And it would help, having someone he knows—at least he thought so. Otherwise it could completely ruin what little relationship the two of them  _ do  _ have.

_ Think about Iron Man _ , he told himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek. If this continued, and Iron Man found out, it would only ruin their relationship, too. And besides, Mr. Stark was willing. He wanted to help Steve. And being with Mr. Stark wasn’t exactly a hardship. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. It was for the betterment of the team, after all, and Steve would presumably be getting some good sex out of it. “Okay,” he said.

Mr. Stark tilted his head at him. “‘Okay?’ You’re fine with the idea?”   
  
“Yeah, I… am,” Steve said. “It can’t hurt to try, can it?”   
  
“I suppose not,” Mr. Stark said carefully. “When do you want to start?”   
  
Steve wrinkled his nose as he thought about it. “Is later tonight okay?” 

Mr. Stark smiled at him softly. It was different from the usual bright grin he sported, more subtle and real, in a way. “That’s fine, Cap. See you then.”

Try as he might, Steve couldn’t help but feel excited for what he was doing with Mr. Stark, and it was what preoccupied his mind for the rest of the day. He wasn’t really sure why he was looking forward to it so much. It wasn’t the prospect of sex, he knew that much. Maybe it was because he was finally getting a chance to fix this problem? Steve had been avoiding Iron Man for a few days to try and hide his attraction, and he missed spending time with his best friend. If this thing with Mr. Stark worked, then his life could go back to normal.

By the time dinner came around, Steve was all but counting down the minutes to when he would see Mr. Stark. They had agreed around eight, to have time to eat and then rest. Steve ate ravenously, and then excused himself. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he ignored them. 

Steve slowed his walk as he neared Mr. Stark’s room, not wanting to seem so eager. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible. He was certain he failed. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door, but there was no response. Steve twisted his mouth, wondering if Mr. Stark had changed his mind. 

“Oh, Captain Rogers!” Came from behind him.

Steve whirled around to look at Mr. Stark. “Oh, there you are. I—I thought you were in your room, Mr. Stark.”   
  
Mr. Stark held up a hand. “No worries. Sorry I’m late. And please, if we’re going to be doing this, call me Tony.” He passed Steve and opened the door for him.

Tony. It was only fair. “Alright, Tony,” Steve said, testing the name out on his lips. “But only if you call me Steve.” 

He didn’t wait for Mr. Star— _ Tony’s _ response, walking into the room and taking a look around. It was exactly as he had expected. The bed was large, resplendent. There were expensive paintings scattered on the walls, and furniture that Steve had no doubt was made of real leather and wood. There wasn’t anything personal to the room, though. Steve did spot several wires and electronics scattered about, however, that Tony quickly pushed aside with his foot.

“Sorry,” Tony said, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed almost—bashful? “About the mess, I mean.”

“It’s fine.” Steve liked the mess. It made Tony seem as human as the rest of them, and though it was a horrible thought it was true. People did tend to see Tony as not like the rest of them. Steve sat down on the bed, wondering if he was stepping too far, but Tony didn’t say anything. “So, how should we do this…?”   


Tony frowned. “Is there anything you know for certain you don’t want? Like—like, kissing, or something more extreme?”   
  
“Uh… I’m fine with kissing,” Steve said. “And I don’t know too much about sex to know just yet about everything else.”   
  
“Okay,” Tony breathed. “We’ll keep it simple for now. It’s your first time, after all.” He cringed at that. “I can’t remember the last time I had a virgin in bed with me.” 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want—”   
  
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Tony said, cutting him off. “It’s fine. Really.” He stared straight at Steve, and Steve couldn’t quite contain a shiver. He had never realized how piercing and sharp Tony’s eyes were. 

Tony leaned closer, and Steve couldn’t help but continue to stare at those eyes, entranced. His eyelids lowered as came closer, stopping when their faces were only inches apart. “Tell me to stop if you need to,” he said just before closing the gap and pressing a soft kiss against Steve’s mouth. 

Steve definitely was not complaining, letting Tony take the lead for now. He’d been kissed before, but this was much more—intimate, somehow. He felt himself being pushed backwards, until he was lying flat on the bed and Tony was straddling him, still locked onto his mouth. Steve groaned and grabbed Tony by the hips. He could feel the bristles of Tony’s mustache brushing against his own face, and that was somehow the most erotic thing he had ever felt thus far. 

Tony eventually broke the kiss, and his lips were full and red. Steve felt a rush of want go through him. This was definitely not going to be hard (no pun intended). “How was that?” Tony asked, beaming widely.

“That was—that was good,” Steve stuttered, mind foggy and still reeling. 

“Great!” Tony exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. His weight settled on Steve’s crotch, and he suppressed a moan at the pressure. “Do you have any preferences for whether you want to top or bottom? I suggest topping for now, since it’s your first time and all.”   
  
“I don’t care,” Steve said. He was barely registering what Tony was saying, too hard to focus on anything but his erection. 

“Okay, topping it is. Let me just—” Tony twisted around and reached over to his nightstand. He must have misjudged the distance, or leaned too far and lost balance, because he toppled over, off of Steve and onto the floor. “Ah!”

Steve shot up, looking down at Tony who was sprawled on the ground. “Are you okay?”   
  
“Just peachy,” Tony mumbled, pushing himself up. His face was tinted pink. “Ignore that.” He opened the drawer and pulled out a small container, setting it beside Steve’s hip. Then, still kneeling on the ground between Steve’s legs, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. His pants followed, though he kept on his bright red briefs. 

Steve stared. He had never expected Tony to be so fit. His skin was golden, tanned, and though his muscles were lean it was clear he was strong and spent a lot of time working out. There was a scar in the middle of his chest, and it only added to his beauty. It was a reminder that Tony had been through hard times as well. Steve remembered explicitly the time Tony had spent in bed after a heart attack. He’d gotten a mechanical heart transplanted. Honestly, though, Steve was kind of surprised Tony had bared that in front of him. 

“Uh, should I—should I take my clothes off as well?” he asked, forcing his eyes up and swallowing heavily. 

“Sure, if you want.” Tony didn’t seem to realize the position he was in, or more likely, he just didn’t care at the moment. 

“Okay.” Steve pulled off his soft t-shirt, tossing it aside, before unzipping his jeans and pushing them down to his ankles.

“Wow, look at you,” Tony breathed. He reached out with his arm and traced Steve’s abs. The light touch of his finger tickled slightly. “I mean, I expected this, but it’s still so much so actually  _ see _ .” He pressed his whole hand against Steve’s stomach. “And feel,” he added as an afterthought. 

“You’re—you’re not so bad yourself,” Steve said clumsily, feeling as though he was tripping on his own tongue. 

Tony brought his eyes up to gaze at Steve. “Thanks,” he said, looking genuinely surprised. 

“Here, let me just—” Steve blindly thought of what he could say to convince Tony that he was attracted to him, “—I want to suck you.”  _ Fuck.  _ That was definitely not what he had meant. He’d never done that before, and didn’t even know where to begin. But now that he’d said it, he couldn’t take it back.

Tony’s pupils dilated, and he stood up, bringing his crotch level with Steve’s view. His eyes were immediately drawn to it. “Fuck. That’s a good idea—a great idea, actually, how do you want me?”

“Uh… whichever way is easiest,” Steve said hesitantly. 

“Okay, I’ll just—” Tony crawled onto the bed, leaning up against the pillows and spreading his legs. “Does that work?”   
  
“Sure,” Steve said. He kicked off his pants, which were still around his ankles, before making his way to Tony and kneeling in between his legs.

“Go as slow as you want,” Tony said with a crooked smile. “I’m sure it’ll be good whatever you do—well, besides biting me, so try and avoid that.”

And so started the actual event of—having sex with Tony Stark. God, saying it like that made it sound so formal and professional. Not at all what this was.

He did a decent job of blowing Tony, who pulled him off at the last minute, face flushed and sweaty. Pride rushed over Steve like a gentle wave. He’d made  _ Tony Stark _ , playboy supreme (okay, never say that again, Steve) look like that—all debauched and lost to the throes of passion. “How was it?” Steve asked.

“Good,” Tony said, a slight slur in his voice. “Really, really fucking good. Damn, Rogers, you sure you’ve never done that before?”

“I’m certain,” Steve said, though he had a feeling that Tony hadn’t actually wanted an answer.

“Mm. Just sit back,” Tony instructed. “I’m going to prep myself.”   
  
Steve didn’t actually know what he meant by that until Tony reached back with lube-covered fingers. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ That was kind of hot, actually. 

Steve was learning a lot about himself today—that he wasn’t half bad at giving a blow job, that he might actually be attracted to Tony Stark, and that watching him fuck himself with his fingers was so hot it was melting his mind.

“Okay, I’m done,” Tony said eventually, bringing Steve out of his reverie. How he could still think and talk straight at this point was beyond Steve, because Steve was already incoherent and he wasn’t even doing anything. Tony settled a pillow in between the two of them, and then laid down, hips resting on the pillow so they were slightly raised. 

It took a bit of maneuvering in the beginning, Steve not entirely sure what to do and how to move, but with Tony’s direction he managed it.

And by the end, Steve was mind blown. He really hadn’t known that he could ever feel that good. He’d been vaguely aware, of course, but it was one thing to know and another to  _ feel _ . Tony had enjoyed it, too, going by his flushed face and dark, wet eyes. He’d been completely lost to incoherence by the time Steve finished. 

“How was that?” Steve asked when he managed to catch his breath, lying on top of Tony.

Tony lifted his head slightly to look into Steve’s eyes. His long, black eyelashes are clumped together. “I… god, that was—extremely good. Like, mind blowing. I can’t believe you were a virgin. You’ve got  _ me  _ all tired out, and I didn’t even do anything.”

“I could probably go again,” Steve said without thinking, and Tony swatted him on the ass. “Hey!”   
  
“I’m not doing anything more than a handjob for at least an hour.” Tony’s voice was light, though, showing he wasn’t actually annoyed.

Steve hummed. He pushed himself up and rolled off of Tony, so that they were shoulder-to-shoulder. “That’s fair. And I don’t need to go again. I just have a short refractory period.”

“God, I wish. I’m only twenty-five and I still have to wait a little bit.”

Steve blinked. “You’re twenty-five?” Somehow, he had always expected Tony be older despite how young he looked. He was a CEO, after all, a very successful one. He definitely didn’t  _ act  _ twenty-five. 

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Why?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Steve said, turning over on his side. “Guess I thought you were older.”   
  
Tony’s eyes flickered up to glance at Steve. “I get that a lot.”

Steve realized that they had just been lying there talking for a few minutes. It was nice, actually. He hadn’t come into this thinking that they would actually spend time together outside of having sex, but he was enjoying it—more than the actual sex, he would say, because he was getting to know Tony. 

Still, it was late, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was invited for the night. He pushed himself up with his arms. “Well, I guess I should go now.” He gave Tony a smile, tapping him on the chest. “Thanks for everything. It was—fun.”

“No problem, Steve,” Tony said with that blinding smile. He leaned up on his elbows, watching Steve as he picked up his clothes and put them back on. “I’m glad I was able to help you in some way.”   
  
Truth be told, Steve had entirely forgotten the purpose of doing this in the first place. He’d just been having fun with Tony, which was a novel experience. Something he’d never done before. Steve had completely forgotten that this was just so that he could stop getting distracted by Iron Man at inconvenient times. “And thanks for, you know, not telling anyone about this.”   
  
Tony’s smile became slightly awkward at that, stilted and forced. “Of course,” he said, with a strange gleam in his eyes. Steve almost wondered if he was lying and had went ahead and told Iron Man—but he wouldn’t do that, would he? It was true that Steve didn’t know Tony all that well, but he knew him enough to think that Tony was the kind of man who kept his word. 

In the end, Steve didn’t remark on it. He was still loose-limbed and high on endorphins from his orgasm, and he didn’t have the brain power to waste time worrying over whether or not Iron Man knew. He gave a little wave as he slipped through the door, making sure no one was nearby and would spot him leaving Tony Stark’s bedroom.

The coast was clear, and Steve quickly back to his own room, slipping into his bed with a sigh. The day had gone a lot better than he expected, and he hoped that tomorrow, he wouldn’t have to deal with his situation now that Tony had helped out.

“Hey, Cap!” Iron Man said cheerfully as Steve walked into the kitchen next morning. The rest of the team was seated at the table, sipping at coffee or busy devouring their breakfast. Jan waved at him, while Hank was absorbed in reading the news. Vision nodded at him. 

“Morning, Iron Man,” Steve said with a warm smile. There was a distinct lack of heat rushing over him as he gazed at the armor. So far, so good. He took the mug of coffee Iron Man handed him, hands brushing. Steve felt a jolt go through his fingers as they touched the metal of the gauntlet, and he quickly retracted his hand, ignoring the sensation. “Thanks, Shellhead.”

Iron Man jauntily raised his own mug that had a straw in it. “No problem, Winghead.”

Steve sat down at the table, realizing that he was absolutely ravenous. He did eat more than the average person due to the serum running through his veins, but he was especially hungry today. Must be due to all the exercise he’d put himself through last night. 

He wondered how Tony was. Generally, Tony didn’t show up to any team breakfasts, since, of course, he wasn’t an Avenger, but now Steve was thinking if maybe he should have extended an invitation. Tony may not officially be a member, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be an honorary one. He had done more than enough for the team to be considered one. 

“Hey, Iron Man,” Steve said, catching his attention. Iron Man tilted his head to show that he had heard. “Do you know where Tony is? Maybe he can come over for breakfast?”

“Oh, sorry, Cap,” Iron Man said. “Maybe another time. He had to run over early to deal with a matter at SI. Why?”

“I was just thinking… I mean, we should all get to know him better, shouldn’t we? He’s the Avengers’ benefactor, after all. And he’s nice enough when I’ve talked to him. We should be more welcoming to him.” It was kind of sad that this had only occurred to him once they’d had sex, but Steve was determined to make it up to Tony now.   
  
Jan, who probably knew Tony the best besides Iron Man, nodded. “Oh, of course! He’s done so much for the team. I don’t mind if he’ll join us sometimes.”

Hank and Vision were nodding as well. “I don’t see why not,” Hank said.

“That’s nice of you,” Iron Man said slowly. “I’ll let him know, though I don’t know if he’ll agree. He has a lot of things to do—”   
  
“That’s fine. I know he’s a busy man. Just—tell him.”

Iron Man nodded eventually. “I will, don’t worry. He’ll appreciate the sentiment, I know that much.” He took a sip of his coffee with the straw, fitting it into his mouth slit. Steve’s eyes were drawn to it, and he had an image of taking the helmet off and revealing Iron Man’s face, his lips. They would be pink and plush, like—Tony’s.

Fuck. It hadn’t worked. 

Steve quickly slid his eyes away from Iron Man, before he did something stupid. He stayed seated, not wanting anyone to see the tent in his pants that didn’t seem to be going away any time soon. Hopefully, everyone would leave in the next few minutes, so he could make a run for it. And then what? He’d have to let Tony know, that they had to do something else to try and fix this problem. 

Maybe—maybe he just wasn’t fully satisfied. Steve sure felt like it, but his body was a different thing entirely. Did that even make sense?

But then, did anything in his life make sense? By this point, Steve had learned to roll with the punches, because new things just kept popping up in their world and those who couldn’t adjust would be left behind. Steve refused to let that happen with him just because he was from an older era. 

“Everything alright, Steve?” Iron Man asked gently. Steve realized he had never responded and was seemingly ignoring everyone. 

“Yeah.” Steve forced himself to look at Iron Man, to look at those sky blue eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just—got distracted.”   
  
Iron Man nodded, finishing up the last of his coffee with a loud slurp. “‘Kay. Just making sure. By the way, I think Mr. Stark wanted to see you after he finished up with SI.”   
  
“Oh,” Steve said, deliberately acting surprised, like he couldn’t possibly think of a reason Tony would want to talk to him. “Alright. I’ll go speak with him.”

“Great,” Iron Man said. “I should probably go now, too.” He waved at them all and then headed out. Steve tore his eyes away before they could land on Iron Man’s ass. Even in the armor, it was a sight to behold.

Jan was gazing after him. She took a bite of her toast and then looked back at Steve. “I wonder why Mr. Stark wants to talk to you.”   
  
“I don’t think it’s anything bad,” Steve said delicately, trying not to sound too confident.

“Probably not,” Hank said, gulping down his coffee. He stood up and set the mug in the dishwasher. “If it was he’d probably talk to all of us.” 

“Well, that’s if it involves the team,” Jan responded, flitting after him. “Steve, tell us what he says, would you? Well, as long as you’re comfortable with it.”    


“Uh, sure,” Steve said, and then they were gone, leaving just him and Vision. That was fine. His erection had gone down by now. Steve finished up his breakfast and then went in search of Tony. He assumed he’d be in his room or in the lab, so Steve headed down to his workshop first. Luckily, Tony was there, working on some sort of prototype that Steve didn’t recognize. “Hey, Tony.”   
  
Tony looked up brightly, pulling off his goggles. “Steve! How are you doing today?” 

“Pretty good after last night,” Steve answered honestly. Tony gave him a warm smile at that. 

“I’m glad to hear. So, did it all work out?”   
  
Steve shifted his feet, glancing down. “No. It’s still—happening.”   
  
Tony didn’t seem upset or disappointed when Steve looked at him. He was pressing a finger against his chin in thought. “Hm. Well, I kind of expected that, to be honest. You can’t really expect something like this to go away immediately, if at all.”   
  
“Oh,” Steve said. “Do you—think we should—keep doing this?”

“We can,” Tony said distractedly. His mind seemed a mile away, lost in thought. “Or… what if I wore the armor to bed? Well, most of it, at least. Some parts’ll have to come off to make room.”   
  
“Won’t that be uncomfortable?” Steve asked blankly. 

Tony set aside whatever he’s working on and hopped up on the table, crossing his legs. “Well, slightly. But it’ll be fine. I’m helping you after all.” The amount of sincerity in his voice and eyes as he said that, Steve didn’t want to deal with. That—that was something he really couldn’t handle right now.   
  
“What about Iron Man? Won’t he mind you wearing the armor?”

“You say that like I haven’t worn it before,” Tony said with a teasing, playful tone. His blue eyes were shining like sun rays glimmering on the ocean’s surface, and Steve’s heart lurched. “I’ve had to test features on it out, after all, and as long as I don’t tell him what it’s for he won’t care.” 

Steve took in a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t miss the way Tony’s eyes were drawn to his muscles for a moment, before flickering back up to meet Steve’s gaze. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. We can try that out. Tonight?”

Tony slipped off of the table and went over to shake Steve’s hand. “Tonight,” he confirmed.

Unlike last night, Tony was in his room when Steve arrived at the door—probably so that no one would see him in the armor and draw any conclusions. 

When Tony threw open the door, Steve had to admit that he looked good in the armor—really good. He had everything but the helmet on, but the rest of the armor fitted him perfectly. Almost like it was made for him. Then again, Tony did say he would test it out on occasion, so maybe it  _ was _ just a model specifically for that purpose. “Hi,” Tony said, grinning like a lunatic.

“Hi,” Steve said back. He shoved the bouquet of flowers he had gotten earlier into Tony’s arms before he could think any better of it. It had been a last-minute thing, and Steve was pretty sure he shouldn’t have gotten it anyway for… whatever this was. Definitely not a relationship. But at the same time, Tony was doing so much to help Steve, who was barely an acquaintance, so he felt obligated to thank Tony in some way. 

Friends with benefits, maybe? Steve would imagine that he and Tony were friends now, if slightly unconventional in the way they had developed.

Tony took the flowers with wide eyes, staring down at them. Steve inwardly cursed. What had he been thinking, flowers? A man like Tony Stark would definitely not appreciate something like that. Steve should have given him alcohol, or cologne, or something. Something with taste.

“What are these for?” Tony asked in alarm. He stepped to the side to let Steve in, then closed the door behind him, still focused on the blooms.

“To… thank you,” Steve said lamely. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry for giving them to you—”   


“No, I like them,” Tony said fiercely. His eyes were glimmering with emotion, though Steve couldn’t tell what. “Thank you, Steve. This was sweet of you.” He set them aside on a table, then turned to Steve, spreading his arms. “How do I look?”

Steve could feel a warmth spreading over him as he gazed at Tony. He looked—delectable, like a treat. The red seemed to gleam against his tan skin, and the gold of the arms and legs clung to every muscle. “Amazing,” he said with a rough voice, swallowing hard. “Are you—going to keep everything on?”   
  
“Probably not,” Tony said. “The armor isn’t exactly made for—something like this. It’s more restrictive than anything. I’m just going to keep on a few parts.”   
  
“Well, then,” Steve said in a deep voice that sounded nothing like him, “why don’t you strip for me?”

Truth be told, Steve never really imagined what having sex with the armor would actually entail. In all his fantasies, everything worked out the way he wanted it to, and they both finished satisfied and pliant.

Unfortunately, reality rarely followed his fantasies. 

It was fine at first. Tony stripped most of the parts off, leaving the chest piece, arms, and boots. Steve found that kind of hot, and it wasn’t just because of the armor. They made out for a bit, Steve lying on top of Tony and grinding down into him, getting all worked up. Then Tony grabbed Steve’s dick, only for it to turn out to be quite uncomfortable with the metal gauntlet.

Steve hissed, though not in a good way, and Tony immediately let go—or, well, he tried to. The skin had—oh, god, the skin had gotten caught in the grooves of the glove. Tony’s eyes widened, and he stared straight at Steve, who couldn’t seem to think anything beyond,  _ Oh _ . 

“Uh. I did not think of that,” Tony said in a high-pitched, panicky voice.   
  
“It’s fine,” Steve said with a calmness he didn’t feel, because what else could he say when his dick was caught in between metal plates? 

“I’ll just—” Tony moved to try and ease off his hand with the other one, before remembering that he had the gauntlet on that one as well. Steve reached forward and pulled it off himself, letting Tony then slowly nudge his hand off without causing a medical crisis. “Is it okay? Does it hurt?”   
  
Steve shook his head.

“I’m so sorry,” Tony said. “I should have expected this—”   
  
“Don’t worry about it, Tony, these things happen.” Steve wasn’t going to blame Tony. He was just trying to help, and it wasn’t exactly as though he’d been in this situation before. “We’ll just be more careful, yeah?”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, biting his lip and glancing down. “We can stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”   
  
Steve grabs Tony’s hand, holding it in between both of his. “You didn’t. You’re fine. And—I can still go.” 

“Okay,” Tony breathed out, closing his eyes for a second. Steve’s gaze was drawn to them, the thick, dark lashes fluttering over his cheeks. “Okay.”

“What about you?” Steve asked gently. “Do you want to keep going?”   
  
“I don’t mind,” Tony said, and when Steve kept staring at him, because that wasn’t a definite ‘yes,’ he rolled his eyes and said,  _ “Yes.” _

Eventually, they both got back into the mood. Tony was lazily stroking Steve, this time without his gauntlets, as they both kissed. He could feel a gentle rush of warmth washing over him, like a sunbath, caught up in the pleasure he was feeling. It was nice. Slow. Intimate. Entirely unlike what Steve had thought the night would go, but he wasn’t complaining. 

It was almost too nice, which was why Steve probably should have expected what happened next. 

As Steve’s breath hitched and he shifted, legs hitting against Tony’s, there was a sudden sound of a blast of air, and a moment later Tony shot out from under him, dragging Steve along due to their tangled legs. Tony yelped as he was pushed off the bed, falling straight onto the ground and rolling over. Unfortunately, this threw Steve forward from the momentum, and he only had time to think,  _ I can’t believe I’m going to die like this _ before he was propelled head-first into the floor, hitting it with a loud thunk.

This was not the first time Steve was grateful for the serum, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He blinked the stars out of his eyes and turned around as he picked himself up. Tony was on his back, legs hanging over his head and resting on the ground in front of him. To use a more crude description, he was ass over teakettle. “What the—Tony, what was that?”   
  
Tony moaned as he uncurled from his position, placing his legs on the bed as he stayed on his back. “I—I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his head, “it was—I’m so sorry, I think it was the boot jet. It just turned on for some reason. Are you okay?”   
  
“I’m a supersoldier, I’ll be fine. Are  _ you  _ okay?” Steve asked, because Tony hadn’t moved at all and he was actually concerned. 

“I’ll be lying here for the foreseeable future,” Tony announced, “wallowing in my shame.”   
  
“It’s okay,” Steve said quickly. He wasn’t upset. He’d probably find it funny in a few hours. “I swear. Did I trigger your boot to go off?” His foot had knocked against Tony’s own just moments before the boot went off. 

“I don’t know, that shouldn’t have happened, but then, I’ve never tried using the armor in a situation like this.” Tony furrowed his brow, thinking. “I’m going to have to work on that. Make some adjustments.”   
  
“So we’re—we’re not finishing up today?” Even as he asked, Steve realized that that was a dumb thing to say. Of course not. Tony could be hurt. And they could have more dangerous mishaps. It’s probably for the best that they stop.

“If you don’t mind,” Tony said slowly.

“Of course not!” Steve exclaimed. He shuffled forward and helped Tony up, who groaned and put a hand against his head. “How badly does it hurt? Is it a concussion?”   
  
“Not that bad, Steve. Just a light ache. It’ll go away in a few hours.” Tony blinked up at Steve with those blue, blue eyes of his. “I really am sorry for ruining all this. I should never have suggested using the armor.”   
  
“You were just trying to help,” Steve said. “It’s fine. Really. It’s kind of funny, actually. I thought I was going to die for a second there.”

Tony pursed his lips, accepting Steve’s hand as he pushed himself up off the ground. “Your death’s not funny to me.”   
  
“Well,” Steve said, and found there was nothing he could say that didn’t fall under the “too emotional” category. Eventually, he settled with, “Your death’s not funny to me either.”

Tony looked at him, with something indescribable glimmering in his eyes, and said, “Thanks.” And then, “It’s getting late. You can just—sleep here, if you want.”

Steve didn’t feel like hurrying back to his own room without getting caught, so he shrugged. “Okay, sure.”

He thought it would be kind of weird and slightly uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as Tony, especially when no… activities had actually occurred to excuse his being there, but Tony almost immediately latched onto him, like an octopus, and Steve was so warm and comfortable that he quickly found himself drifting off.

When he woke, Tony was nowhere in sight. The flowers had been placed into a delicate, crystal vase that was full of water. Steve blinked, then noticed a note on the nightstand. 

_ “Off to SI. Tell me how everything works out :) - Tony” _

Steve smiled at the paper, making sure not to crumple it in his grasp. He slid out of the bed and fixed up the sheets, thinking it was the least he could do after sleeping in Tony’s bed. Then he put on his clothes from yesterday before hurrying to his own room and changing into a fresher outfit. 

He quickly checked his appearance and then headed down to the kitchen to have breakfast. “Morning, Jarvis,” he said as he passed the butler on his way to the table, where there were several steaming plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. The amount of food was no different from any other morning, but it still stopped Steve in his tracks. “Did you do all this?”   
  
“Of course, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said, smiling. “As I always do.”   
  
Steve still felt a little bad that Jarvis worked so much, especially when he was capable of making breakfast on his own, but Jarvis had told him multiple times that he enjoyed doing it and that it was the least he could in return for all the work the Avengers put in. Jarvis had also gone on to say that the best way to thank him was to enjoy the food he made, so Steve simply smiled at Jarvis and said, “Thanks. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”

Jan and Hank both filtered in at that point, gazing at the veritable buffet with wide eyes. “Oh, wow, this all looks amazing, Jarvis!” Hank exclaimed.

“Thanks so much,” Jan said as she picked up a plate. 

Steve had picked up an empty plate and was in the middle of piling on several thick pancakes when his Avengers Identicard started beeping and flashing. “Oh, no,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket. He looked at the food mournfully for a second.

Jan groaned. “Why now?”

“Go on, all of you,” Jarvis said, “I’ll keep everything warm for you.”

“Right. Thank you, Jarvis,” Steve said, heading out with Jan and Hank. “What’s the situation?” he said into the card. It seemed Iron Man was the one who had called. 

_ “Oh, there you are, Cap! Just got into a little scuffle with AIM, and I’m going to need your help.” _

“Alright. On it. Avengers, assemble!”

Steve fucked up. 

As arrogant as that sounds, he doesn’t usually fuck up. At least, not when with his team. 

The mission had been going well in the beginning. AIM had been trying to raid an old SI warehouse, which Iron Man got wind of. All of the employees had already been evacuated, but Iron Man was having trouble fighting off all the minions by himself, hence why he had called for backup.

Once the Avengers joined in, they were having no trouble running AIM out of the warehouse—which had been storing some old weapons, and presumably the reason they had attacked it—except for when Steve decided it was the right time to get distracted by Iron Man. He had glanced up for one moment while in the middle of tossing his shield and spotted Iron Man flying overhead, looking as though he belonged in the air, and the next, was on his back about to get his head blasted off. 

_ “Cap!”  _ Iron Man cried, shooting down and ramming into the AIM soldier just as they pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, the blast of the gun hit Iron Man’s upper body, cracking and breaking apart the armor—including his helmet, which was now lying in smoking pieces on the ground.

Steve pushed himself up on his elbows just in time to see Iron Man turn around and gaze at him with wide eyes. Wide, blue eyes that were just like Tony’s. And just like that, everything clicked into place. _Tony _was Iron Man. Not some random bodyguard, or a friend, but _Tony Stark_. The man Steve had been lusting over for so long, had opened up about to Tony, _was_ _Tony_. 

“Are you okay?” Iron Ma—Tony asked, looking worried. There were cracks in his chestplate, some large enough to reveal his bare chest underneath. Steve’s eyes were drawn to it for a moment, before he glanced back up. 

Tony seemed to be ignoring the fact that his identity had just been exposed to everyone in the warehouse. Luckily, most people still seemed too engrossed in fighting to realize what was going on.

“I—” Steve started, then shook his head, picking himself up. He laid his hands on Tony’s shoulders. “You have to go hide. You’re in no fighting condition, and unless you want everyone to know who you are, you should do it soon.”

“No, I, I can’t—” Tony bit his lip, eyes downcast. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go do that.” The sudden change in mind was strange, but Steve didn’t have the time to pay attention to it right now.

Steve felt sick. He’d been telling Tony that he was attracted to Iron Man, but Iron Man had known the entire time. Had he secretly been making fun of Steve in his head, thinking of how pathetic it was that Steve had gotten attracted to metal armor?   
  
And what about the fact that he’d agreed to have sex with Steve? What was that about? Try as he might, Steve couldn’t figure out Tony’s angle in all of this. He’d known Steve was attracted to him, but went ahead and tried to help Steve get over it anyway. Was it because he’d felt uncomfortable about the fact that he was distracting Steve in that way? Had he been uncomfortable the entire time? Had Steve made him feel obligated?

Never mind that right now. Steve had a job to do. This was—this was something they’d have to talk about after.

Steve watched as Tony quickly hurried away, and then turned back to the fight. There were only a few stragglers left now, and seemed to be on the verge of escaping. He picked up his shield, and joined the battle.

Steve didn’t talk to Tony right away. He was still stinging after discovering the truth. He couldn’t help but feel used, like some sort of—toy that had been discarded once it no longer served a point. Why had Tony gone along with that? Steve had literally told him that he was attracted to him, to his armor, to his face, and all he had done was have sex with Steve.

The only explanation that made sense to him was that Tony was making fun of him. He was making fun of how Steve was attracted to Iron Man and didn’t know, when in reality Iron Man had known the entire time. 

Had Tony been uncomfortable, finding out? He had seemed shocked, but he had quickly recovered and moved on. So it must not have bothered him that much, right? And that was why he had decided to mock Steve and his— _ stupid _ —crush. 

For that matter, Iron Man was his best friend. Tony Stark was his best friend, because Iron Man and Tony Stark were the same person. Had everything been a lie? Had Iron Man— _ Tony  _ cared for him at all?

Steve realized that he was still thinking of Iron Man and Tony as two separate people—Iron Man, who he liked, the one completely unaware of everything, and Tony, who was the man making fun of him, mocking him. It didn’t seem right, when he thought about it like that. He and Iron Man had spent so much time together. It couldn’t have all been fake, could it?

Steve felt a tear slip out of his eye, and he wiped it away quickly. He wasn’t going to cry over this. Not now. Not until he had answers. 

He went to sleep with a heavy, cold heart, the space next to him feeling empty and bare. 

The next morning, Steve headed over to Tony’s lab. 

The team knew Tony’s identity now. Tony had decided it was only fair, since Steve knew—though, according to Tony, Thor had known for a while. 

Tony wasn’t in the lab, which was strange. It wasn’t so early that he wouldn’t be awake. Steve then went to his bedroom, because that was the only other place he could think of. He knocked harshly on the door, but there was no response. He stood out there for five minutes and was on the verge of leaving when the door creaked open.

Steve could only see one of Tony’s eyes peeking out through the sliver that was open. “What is it?” Tony asked gruffly.

“I wanted to talk to you. About everything that happened.” Steve thought that should have been obvious, but apparently Tony was trying to avoid him. What for, he had no idea. “I’m not—angry, not totally,” he said, because he really wasn’t, he was just confused and upset. 

Well, okay, there was a small part of him that was raging at the fact that Tony had lied to him, but he was repressing that until after he had his answers. “I have no reason to be. I just—want to figure things out.”

The door opened, revealing the rest of Tony. He had a few bruises and cuts from the battle, but nothing that was serious. “Okay,” he said softly, completely at odds with the slick and confident man Steve had come to know.

“Is—everything alright?” Steve asked once he had stepped inside the room. 

“Yeah,” Tony said, forcing a smile that looked fake even to Steve. “I guess I’m just. Surprised that you’re not kicking me off the team.”   
  
“Why would you think that?” Steve asked in alarm. Had he ever said anything that would imply that?

Tony traced a finger on the petals of one of the flowers Steve had given him the day before. “Well, because I’ve been lying to you the entire time. And I used you for sex, when you didn’t know the truth.” He said it so matter-of-fact, like there could not possibly be any other interpretation.

“Is that—really what happened?” Steve asked, a cold, dark feeling falling over him like he was back in the ice. “Is that the reason you did it?” He couldn’t quite keep the judgment away from his tone.

Tony’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! I would never—” He stopped and cleared his throat, lowering his voice. “I would never use you. Not on purpose. But that’s what happened anyway, even though I just wanted to help.”   
  
“You wanted to help,” Steve repeated blankly, everything he had planned to say suddenly forgotten. “Help me? With my problem? Even though it must have made you uncomfortable, knowing that about me?”   
  
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Tony mumbled. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. “Really, far from it.” Even with his enhanced hearing, Steve still had to strain to hear the words. 

“You… weren’t uncomfortable with it? At all?”   
  
Tony shook his head. “It made me a little flattered, I guess, that my armor had such an effect on you. I just mostly wished that you felt the same for the man inside the armor.” He seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek. “That might have been part of the reason I offered to have sex with you.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ There was no way Steve was mistaking what Tony said, was he? “Are… did you…  _ want  _ me to be attracted to you? Is that what you’re saying?”   
  
Tony raised his head so that he was level with Steve’s gaze, staring straight into his eyes. “Yes. I… like you, Steve. Have for a while. Just couldn’t say anything because, you know. The obvious.”

Steve bit his lip. He wanted to say he liked Tony, because he really  _ did _ , and knowing that his two crushes were actually the same person made things easier, but—it was still too soon. It was still too raw. Tony hadn’t meant to use him, but Steve still felt open and exposed. 

He had literally told Tony to his face that he was sexually attracted to him. Tony could have just—ignored it. Done nothing. Instead, he offered himself up to Steve when Steve didn’t even know that the very person he had come to for help was the person he was attracted to.

But then, that wasn’t the kind of person either Tony or Iron Man were. They were too selfless, too giving. Steve needed to remember that Tony was Iron Man—his best friend. They’d spent countless hours together. It wasn’t as though Tony was a stranger using him. Steve  _ knew  _ the kind of person Iron Man was. A hero. Someone dedicated towards bettering the future. A knight in shining armor.

Steve inhaled deeply, before sighing. He hoped he wouldn’t regret this, but even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t. Steve stepped closer, winding his arms around Tony’s shoulders. “You know, I like you, too, Shellhead. And that hasn’t changed just because I know the man inside the armor. In fact, it makes it even better, because I was attracted to Iron Man  _ and  _ you.”

Tony blinked up at him. His mouth parted slightly. “Steve, are you—”   


Steve kissed him.

It was different, this time. Although they had kissed several times already, Steve felt like it was the first time, something new to be treasured and remembered. Tony’s lips were warm and soft, light on Steve’s own mouth. Unlike their other kisses, there wasn’t any lust and desire behind it, but rather, a sense of love, of coming home. Steve melted into the kiss, pulling Tony closer against him, until they were pressed together like one being, united in their love and affection for one another.

The problem hadn’t just been that Steve was aroused by the armor. He  _ loved  _ Iron Man. Had for a long time. It just wasn’t until now that he was able to act on those feelings.

They separated eventually, unclear of whether only a few seconds or a few minutes had passed. They pressed their foreheads together, Steve’s eyes closed.

“Wow,” Tony whispered eventually, voice hoarse. Steve flickered his eyes open to look at Tony. “That was. Something.”   
  
“Yeah, it was,” Steve said, and kissed him again for good measure. Just to—just to make sure he was doing it right, that was all. Certainly not because kissing Tony—kissing Iron Man, his love, his best friend, his fantasy—was addictive, like the sweetest drug there was, and it was all for  _ Steve _ .

He didn’t know how much time passed as they stood together, lips locked and tongues moving. All Steve knew was that he never wanted to let go now that he had Iron Man—no,  _ Tony Stark _ —in his arms. 

Tony was the first to draw apart this time. “So, does this mean we’re— _ Steve _ ,” he said with a smile in his voice, cutting himself off as Steve started to pepper little kisses along his jaw and neck.

“What?” Steve asked innocently, widening his eyes.

Tony laughed, letting Steve continue his ministrations. “I think—I think—god, that’s good—we should take this slow, considering how—messed up our relationship was thus far.”

Steve left one final kiss on his nose, and then pulled away, keeping his hands on Tony’s biceps. “Sure,” he said easily. Now that he had the actual man in his arms, he didn’t think he would have a problem with the armor—though he was definitely going to try to get Tony to build a model that would work in the bedroom.   
  
“So, we’re okay?” Tony asked, suddenly all serious. His blue eyes were imploring as they stared into Steve’s own. “We’re doing this? Dating?”   
  
Steve didn’t think about it. He had already done enough of that and he was just going to live in the moment for now, be happy with Tony. They both needed that. “We are. I think we’ll be okay.”

Pure joy overtook Tony’s face, a bright smile lighting up his eyes, and he quickly hugged Steve again, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “I like you,” he whispered into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “I like you a lot.” The close, trusting intimacy between them felt fluid, as though they had been together for years already, a key fitting into a lock, and Steve found it made sense, considering how close he and Iron Man were. 

Steve held Tony tight, dropping a kiss onto his black locks. He closed his eyes and just basked in the feeling of being held, cherished, in a way that he had craved for so long. 

Walking into Tony’s room he hadn’t expected to get into a relationship just like that, and maybe some people would tell him to slow down, but he had wanted this for so long, and now that he had it in his grasp he wasn’t going to let it go. “I like you, too,” he said, glad that he could finally let it out. 


End file.
